


Sketch

by haliae



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: AU, Artist Scott, Crush at First Sight, Fluff, M/M, Nude Modeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:44:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8241728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haliae/pseuds/haliae
Summary: This boy - and the arch of his delicate back and the elegant tilt of his jaw - is beautiful. Scott is shocked. He is frozen with his pencil inside the tight grip of his hand while every other student is already starting their sketch. The room fills with the soft scratching sounds of graphite against paper but all Scott can hear is the thunderous sound of his heart rate on his ears.





	

**AU. PG-13.**  

Scott stares at his blank canvas and then at the teacher. They're drawing nude bodies again and though he is an avid admirer of the human anatomy, he found quickly that the models who are willing to pose are more of the same.

They are _models_ \- meaning they're beautiful in the way you see all the time in the conventional media. The girls are skinny, with perfect skin and perky boobs and the boys are muscular and tall. It doesn't escape to Scott the irony that he probably falls in the conventional beauty, but maybe that's why he searches for beauty in other forms.

He finds beauty in imperfections. He likes to draw the stretch marks on thighs and arms. He likes the natural disproportion of humanity. He likes the raw exposed forms of everything - no touch ups, no idealization.

People usually don't enjoy his work for that same reason. Everyone seems to want to hide the details that make them ordinary. They want to be part of some sort of homogenization of beauty and they get frustrated when Scott pulls them further from that.

He's still an amateur though. He's still learning, still developing his style. And that's why he sits in this class every week.

Scott listens to the introduction the teacher gives but without paying too much attention to it. He has his expensive pencil on his hand and twirls it absent-mindedly, eyes fixed on the teacher's worn off flats as she moves around the place the model is supposed to be.

"Sometimes, portraying the human body is a challenge," She says, as if the students don't know that. She sounds so excited though, Scott hardly can be annoyed at that. "Especially if you have to add details," He looks from her flats to her beaming face and his brow furrow in confusion and his eyes twinkle with curiosity. "Today, you're not drawing someone's body, but also their decorations. You're drawing tattoos."

Scott's pale eyebrows shoot up and he's intrigued - he's actually interested. Tattoos are a disruption of what he likes to portray which is the body as it is. And after that, he'll have to imitate another artist's style to have a realist take on the tattoos. It is challenging and he's anxious, biting on his lip and deciding to go for the model with the easier tattoos. He doesn't always play safe but he feels that he should, right now.

The teacher invites the models and Scott's attention immediately shifts. His jaw drops although just a little and he's positive he looks like a fool. The girl is beautiful and common but she's not able to hold his interest for much longer because there's a _boy_ \- Mitch, according to the teacher.

The robe barely clings to his little frame and Scott is able to see tattooed hands escaping through the white sleeves. His features are striking and confusing and _stunning_. He doesn't have the cold symmetry and proportions they're thought. Mitch has carved cheekbones and a big nose and plump lips against olive skin and he - _oh_ , he has dimples, Scott realizes when the boy greets the class with a polite smile.

And his _eyes_. Scott feels breathless and almost shy. They have a confident disinterest to them as if Mitch is used to this - used to people watching him, drinking each detail of his complexion. They're beautifully brown, drawing Scott into their depths and framed by thick eyelashes and eyebrows that defy Scott's love for the imperfection.

He doesn't know if he can hold Mitch's gaze. And then he decides he can't when the boy's eyes land on his figure when he's anxiously leaning forward over his canvas to have a better look. Scott retreats at once and looks down to find that Mitch's toes are painted with a deep burgundy red that doesn't match his black fingernails.

Scott likes it. Incongruency. Surprises.

When he has the courage and the obligation to look up again, Mitch is taking off his robe. It slides easily from his shoulders and the teacher takes it from his hands and moves to hang it along with the girl's one. But nothing distracts Scott from the body that walks and poses right in front of his eyes.

His torso is shaved and blank except for a tattoo on his collarbone - which reads exactly that - and one of a symbol he's familiar with but can't pinpoint. It's not related to Disney except he sees the distinct form of Mickey Mouse's ears. The rest of his body has short hair just like the top of his head and Scott wonders if Mitch maintains his legs and the trail low on his tummy like that.

His arms are covered but not so heavily that Scott can't see skin. Scott would like to say that he's like a canvas, but Mitch is more like a sketchbook. He has drawings and letters on his skin and it doesn't seem to have a pattern of space between them. There's no theme except for a sleeve of Spongebob characters and Scott feels both the urge to grin and grimace - they were charming but possibly terrible drawing subjects.

It's not homogeneous - it's not perfect - but it's _beautiful_.

This boy - and the arch of his delicate back and the elegant tilt of his jaw - is beautiful. Scott is shocked. He is frozen with his pencil inside the tight grip of his hand while every other student is already starting their sketch. The room fills with the soft scratching sounds of graphite against paper but all Scott can hear is the thunderous sound of his heart rate on his ears.

And just then, Mitch looks at him. He doesn't change the arrange of his limbs one inch but his eyes turn and meet Scott's. He looks straight at him and he has a sparkle on his eyes which Scott classifies as amused. It makes Scott feel like he's burning and it shows through his cheeks that are now tinged pink.

He's always had a clinic eye when it comes to subjects. It's just a body, the same way an apple is an apple if you're going to draw it. But this boy isn't just a body and it makes something on Scott's stomach coil and burn. Scott feels lightheaded with desire and he drops his pencil to wipe his clammy hands on his jeans. He never desired a subject before but his mouth is dry and he wants to drink from Mitch's plump limps, wants to run his hands over the inked skin and the ridges of his collarbones and ribs.

Scott feels electrified and a goosebump runs through his body and then it hits him at once. From the waves of desire rises admiration and from admiration rises inspiration. This boy is intriguing and peculiar and all at once he _has_ to draw him.

He exhales long and shaky and he gets the pencil on his hand and he's an artist and Mitch is his muse. His mind flies with possibilities but this image on the paper and before his eyes grounds him. He wants to finish it, wants to capture every detail and every inch of skin so he can never forget.

His eyes flick from the paper to the boy, quick and concentrated as he draws short lines who connect to make a rough form of the body in front of him. He does struggle with the tattoos and he narrows his eyes, knit his eyebrows together and try to imitate their shape. It's rather frustrating and he wants to see them closer, examine them from all their different angles. He knows he can't though so he huffs a little and does his best.

Scott glances at the clock and notices that his time is sparse and he has to draw the boy's eyes still. He avoided them until now, seeing how mesmerizing and dangerous they are, but they can't do it anymore. So he takes a deep breath, looks up and pauses when finding brown eyes again on him. He feels nervous and exposed as if _he_ was the one naked under Mitch's stare.

The brown eyes softened but they still had the same fierce sharp sparkle on them. It scares and attracts Scott at the same time and therefore, it flusters him. He's not satisfied when he finishes, however, he doubts the emotions on Mitch's eyes could be perfectly put into paper.

This boy has some energy, something mysterious to Scott, that seems impossible to be portrayed. It's as if his own features and his own personality are rebelling and they refuse to be contained. It's like he was made to be appreciate in his whole form and no representation can be accurate enough.

It doesn't stop Scott from wishing to try.

It's way too soon when the teacher declares that their time is over. Scott opens his mouth and he's surprised to find out that he wants to protest. An irrational annoyance stirs deep inside of him and he wants to throw a tantrum - wants to demand that his subject won't be taken away from is. But the teacher hands Mitch his robe and the mesmerizing lengths of olive skin are almost completely covered by the fabric. Scott almost pouts.

He's happy to hear that Mitch and the other girl - Heather, as he finally learned - would come back next class. It makes his stomach do funny things again and he wonders briefly if those are butterflies. Scott convinces himself that they're _artistic butterflies_.

Mitch doesn't glance again his way before exiting the room and Scott bites his lip though he tells himself that he doesn't have a reason to be disappointed. They didn't talk despite his mysterious inclination towards the boy. So he just sighs and packs his things and throws his backpack over his shoulder.

Scott likes surprises, or so it's what he tells himself. However, when he sees Mitch coming out of the bathroom right in front of him, he quickly decides that he only likes surprises when he's drawing. He sucks in a breath and his heart hammers wildly in the cage of his chest and he _wants_ to reach out.

He feels insecure, however. He's not sure he can be someone Mitch likes. The boy seems refined and just different from everyone Scott has ever met. Scott feels almost intimidated - no, scratch that, he feels positively intimidated. He's just an artist, constantly dirty of paint and pencil. He's not particularly interesting and he feels... well, he feels plain. Boring. And Mitch looks very distant from that. It feels inappropriate, that he wants to know Mitch, as if two opposite worlds are clashing.

He takes a deep breath and jogs until he can reach Mitch.

"Hey!" He says and when Mitch turns to look at him it's like he can hear their both worlds crashing. Or maybe it's just his heart. "Hey, um, Mitch isn't it?"

The boy smiles. His dimples show and Scott feels his mouth going dry again. "Yeah, hi,"

"I'm Scott," He clears his voice, answers Mitch's unspoken question. "I was in Mrs. Mendoza's class."

"Ah, yes," He says and there's something in his smile that makes Scott have goosebumps all over. "I saw you. I hope that I was a decent model."

"You were!" Scott says way too quickly and his cheeks burn in embarrassment. Mitch grins. "You mean you don't usually pose?"

"Nope. I just need the cash." Mitch shrugs.

"Oh- _oh_. That's a shame." Scott says before he can think of it and Mitch's eyebrows shoot up and his blush gets even deeper. "Oh, _fuck_ , I mean, um- I would love to draw you. Not necessarily um, without clothes, but like... I thought I could play a little with lighting and I just- I had a few ideas and it'd be nice if you'd pose for me."

Mitch is grinning again. He stops and turns his whole body towards Scott and Scott mirrors him although he doesn't do it with the same elegance. "Why don't you pay me a coffee and try to convince me?"

It tickles Scott - Mitch's voice and the suggestion beneath it. The artistic butterflies on his stomach flap their wings almost violently and he feels giddy. He smiles widely and nods.

"Yeah," He breathes. "Yeah, that sounds good." 


End file.
